


Emerald

by henriqua



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, DJ Otabek Altin, M/M, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, in a dirty club bathroom, or maybe a tiny hint of plot? you tell me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 21:14:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11021736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/henriqua/pseuds/henriqua
Summary: “I don’t come here to drink, I come here to dance." Yuri rests his arms on Otabek’s shoulders and looks up at him with half-lidded eyes, pressing his thigh more demanding against the taller man’s crotch. “And I come here to see you.”





	Emerald

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank [Rachel](http://tokiyasstar.tumblr.com/) for not only brainstorming this story with me, but also proofreading it (and correcting my clusterfuck of English), creating [beautiful](http://tokiyasstar-art.tumblr.com/post/161156693153/otabek-altin-outfit-idea-and-inspiration-from/) [art](http://tokiyasstar-art.tumblr.com/post/161156691993/yuri-plistesky-outfit-idea-and-inspiration-from/) to it and basically being the force that helped me to finish writing this. Thank you darling for being the best savior ever, the Beka to my Yura and so on ♡
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this!

Out of all the places Otabek has ever done gigs in, Emerald is definitely his favorite. He has seen a fair share of clubs and bars during the years he has been DJing, and he’s grateful he’s now lucky enough to choose where he wants to play instead of hunting for gigs and ending up in shady places.  
  
And Emerald is far from shady: it’s a huge, well-known club with a high ceiling and a dance floor made for losing oneself in the music. Every other Saturday Otabek plays in Emerald, and on those days even the second and third floor balconies are filled with people dancing with glasses in their hands. What he most loves about the club, however, isn’t its size or the fact that it’s popular enough to be crowded every day of the week, no - he’s always excited to play in Emerald because he can perfectly see the dance floor and its partiers from his place on the stage behind the turntables.  
  
Otabek doesn’t know the person who controls the lighting of the club during his sets but he would love to thank them - the lights are bright and crazy, yet it’s never too dark or mysterious for him or the dancing mass. Most of the songs and remixes Otabek plays are pre-mixed, so he has a lot of time to study the crowd between pushing the right button on his computer and sipping a drink that has slightly bitter aftertaste.  
  
Otabek can’t remember the first time when he played in Emerald, but he’s come back twice a month for at least half a year now. Every time he steps on the stage and gets his music going, the huge screen behind his back stating his name on a black background, he has a hard time believing _he_ has gotten the chance to play in Emerald as a regular DJ.  
  
Overall Saturdays are good days to play in popular clubs: it will definitely be a busy night, and more often than not the regulars of Emerald seem to find their way on the dance floor sooner or later. Otabek already spots familiar faces from the crowd he’s providing tunes to: a young couple with matching rings on their left ring fingers letting loose on the second floor balcony; a guy with bright red hair who somehow knows the lyrics to all the songs Otabek plays; a huge group of boys and girls around his age in the middle of the dance floor, jumping and swaying their bodies to the beat of the music, a couple of them leaving the dance floor from time to time to get drinks for all of them.  
  
This last group has _always_ been in Emerald when Otabek has had a chance to stand on the stage. He supposes they come there every Saturday to have a couple of drinks and forget their daily lives for an hour (...or four). Otabek tries to let his gaze scan the dance floor from one side to the other but something always draws his attention to the group.  
  
If Otabek is being honest, it’s not exactly some _thing_ that manages to mesmerize him from one week to another - but some _one_.  
  
Often dancing between a very tall, dark guy and a girl in small shorts is a boy with the club’s name glinting in his eyes, and at least 10 piercings in his ears reflecting the lights swiping over him. He has long, blonde hair that’s secured on a very high ponytail that night. The end of his ponytail sways from side to side in rhythm with his body, and every time the song smoothly changes to a new one he meets eyes with Otabek and quirks up one side of his mouth.  
  
Otabek isn’t calling it flirting per se; the boy is probably drunk, very pleased with Otabek’s taste of music, and at first Otabek thought he doesn’t even realize he’s sending a small smile to the DJ every now and then. The pathetic truth is, however, that even when Otabek isn’t watching at the boy’s direction, he can physically feel the sharp eyes on him and he just _has_ to meet them, no matter the situation.  
  
They’ve shared these kind of short (and sometimes longer) stares every other Saturday for months now. Otabek has a feeling the boy is now very aware of his habit of sparing a glance at the DJ, and that he actually is enjoying the little game they have going on between them. Otabek isn’t sure how the game started and why it doesn’t seem to have an end, but he has to admit it definitely is one of the reasons he loves throwing gigs in Emerald so much.  
  
Otabek takes a sip of his drink and places the glass on the table next to his computer, running a hand through his hair while checking the song queue and making sure everything is still going smoothly on his end. The music is loud, definitely causing most of the partiers’ ears to ring the next morning, and the green, red and yellow lights make the atmosphere almost psychedelic as people jump and move their bodies to the rhythm of the crazy song.  
  
Otabek raises his eyes and sees how a light sweeps over the crowd, his eyes meeting bright green ones. He smiles to the blond boy and quirks up a teasing eyebrow, raising his glass on his lips. The girl dancing next to the boy leans closer to say something to him, and the eye connection is broken: Otabek watches as the boy listens to his friend, his attention being stolen by someone else than him giving Otabek the perfect chance to watch him more in secret.  
  
The boy is wearing tight black pants and a loose yet slightly cropped neon pink top, revealing a strip of pale skin when he lifts his arms up, losing himself in the music. He’s thrown on a short jacket, possibly made of black leather, over the shirt, metallic studs on its shoulders.  
  
He looks good, and when Otabek’s eyes leave the exposed part of the boy’s stomach they’re met with curious, deep ones. Otabek is grateful the club is dark enough to hide his embarrassed blush, and he is _extremely_ grateful he’s on the stage and the boy is on the dance floor far enough not to hear the soft gasp leaving Otabek’s mouth when he turns around, knowing there’s a pair of eyes glued on him, and slowly slips the jacket off his shoulders.  
  
_That_ is something Otabek is ready to call flirting.  
  
Otabek can’t help but watch how the jacket slides down, revealing a very open back of the top underneath it. The boy moves his body to the beat of the music and the blush on Otabek’s face deepens, as he sees more of the boy’s smooth pale skin.  
  
The blond is almost completely out of the jacket when he shrugs it back on with one fluid movement and turns around, locking eyes with the DJ. He bites his lip and winks, the look on his face almost sultry, and suddenly Otabek wants to jump down from the stage and have a dance with him.  
  
He tears his eyes away, forcing them to look around the dance floor as if he hadn’t been staring and enjoying the small show he had just witnessed. From the corner of his eye Otabek sees how the boy laughs and turns back to his friends, continuing to dance, a playful and victorious smile on his lips.  
  
Otabek wants to do his job properly and he downs the rest of his drink, hoping it’s calming enough to make him focus on what he’s supposed to do that night. The DJ who is going to take the stage after Otabek places his own laptop on the table next to him and gives him a smile and nod as a hello. Otabek returns the gesture and checks the time from the corner of his laptop screen: 15 minutes before his shifts ends.  
  
“Crazy night, huh? It’s so damn hot in here,” the DJ says, clicking open the programs and file cases he needs for his gig. Otabek looks up from his own screen and immediately finds the sharp, green eyes from the crowd, their stare on him. Otabek smiles and runs a hand very slowly through his hair, not breaking eye contact with the boy on the dance floor, swearing he can see a delicate blush spreading on the blond’s face.  
  
“Yeah, it definitely is hot.”  
  
Otabek finishes his set and lets the next DJ take over, putting his laptop away. He leaves his belongings on the back of the stage, planning to get another drink and maybe steal a glance or two of the dancing blond before heading home. He scans the dance floor before getting down, but suddenly he can’t find the eyes that have been teasing him the whole night; Otabek spots the tall guy and the girl with tiny shorts still dancing in the same place, but their small blond friend seems to have disappeared.  
  
Otabek sighs and gets down from the stage, heading to the counter standing on the other end of the dance floor - maybe the boy had left to get a drink as well. Otabek tries to come up with a pick up line that doesn’t sound too cringey in case he happens to run into him at the counter, and then he immediately scolds himself for even thinking about hitting on the blond. They don’t know each other, and the boy was probably flirting with him only because he’s adventurous when drunk.  
  
Otabek’s train of thought is interrupted by someone grabbing his arm. He turns around, but doesn’t manage to catch the face of the person whose fingers are wrapped around his bicep before he’s pulled closer, the heat of another person’s body almost scorching on Otabek’s skin.  
  
“You played well tonight.” It’s loud in the club but Otabek hears the words whispered right next to his ear clearly. He almost feels the person’s lips touching him, and the slightly rough voice mixed with a scent of something fresh causes a chill run down his spine. Otabek pulls back just enough to see the person talking to him and is met with emerald eyes, the color clear and bright even in the dim club.  
  
Otabek manages to swallow down the curse that’s screaming in his mind.  
  
“Thank you. You seemed to really enjoy yourself.” The boy laughs, and Otabek sees very thin lines of black eyeliner around his eyes.  
  
“It’s impossible not to when you’re on that stage,” the boy says with a tiny smirk. “Are you going home already?”  
  
“That’s the plan, at least.”  
  
“Would you mind a little change in your plan?” The boy is close, the fingers of his right hand still holding Otabek’s arm. Otabek knows he looks calm and confident on the outside, but right at this moment his mind is trying to decide should he run away and never come back, or let himself drown in the eyes that have been teasing him for months now.  
  
“What kind of change are we talking about here?” Otabek hears himself asking and the blond leans in, this time his lips brushing against Otabek’s ear when he whispers into it.  
  
“My name’s Yuri. Dance with me, Altin.”  
  
( _Yuri..._ , Otabek’s mind keeps repeating it like it was the answer to every possible question in his life.)  
  
Otabek lets the blond drag him towards the dance floor. He expects them to zigzag their way in the middle where Yuri’s friends are, but they end up in the back, barely even on the actual dance floor. Yuri turns around and steps closer, his hand sliding down to hold Otabek by his wrist. The music is loud but Otabek hardly hears it through the beating of his heart booming in his ears, the wild lights gliding over Yuri’s face unveiling specks of sapphire in the midst of emerald.  
  
For months Otabek has been losing himself in the way Yuri dances but it feels and looks even more intoxicating when he’s _right_ there, the heat of his body getting mixed with his own, Yuri’s waist lithe and pliant under Otabek’s fingertips. Otabek wouldn’t exactly call himself a great dancer, but suddenly he doesn’t care that a club full of people can see him and his pathetic skills - he lets the music take over, the beat flowing in his bloodstream and guiding his movements, Yuri pressing their bodies together for a teasing second before backing away again with a smirk.  
  
Otabek feels drunk even though he’s only had one drink. Subconsciously he knows he’s still in the club, surrounded by people while the beat echoes in his bones, but everything that’s not Yuri simply disappears - he can only see the piercing eyes not leaving his own. He’s hyperaware of the hot skin under his palm as he places his hand on Yuri’s waist that’s not covered by his shirt. He hears how every noise turns into a static ringing when Yuri’s hands slide into his hair, fingertips studying the prickly buzzcut, and presses his mouth on Otabek’s jaw.  
  
Otabek curses under his breath and manages to take the blond by his wrists when there’s a pair of hands traveling down on his back, reaching for the hem of his shirt. Even with Yuri’s hands pried away there isn’t even an inch between their bodies, and Yuri makes a very loud wordless statement of not being pleased by pressing his thigh between Otabek’s legs.  
  
“You’re drunk,” Otabek says, breathless. They might have been flirting the whole night again but he isn’t going to take an advantage of the situation, no matter how much he wants Yuri to keep touching him.  
  
“I’m not,” Yuri argues, his brows in a confused frown. “I’ve had one drink.”  
  
“Just one?” Otabek asks, surprised.  
  
“I don’t come here to drink, I come here to dance,” Yuri says, and Otabek lets go of his wrists. He has to admit that the blond doesn’t act or look like he has had too much to drink - and thanks to his job, Otabek has seen _a lot_ of drunken people. Yuri rests his arms on Otabek’s shoulders and looks up at him with half-lidded eyes, pressing his thigh more demanding against the taller man’s crotch. “And I come here to see you.”  
  
Otabek wishes he knew how to properly answer Yuri’s whispered flirting, but he has never been too good with words. He places his hands on the blond’s waist, thumbs tracing the skintight pants’ waistband, and pulls him closer. Yuri rolls his body in rhythm with the music, his hands traveling down on Otabek’s chest while his hot mouth leaves a trail of kisses on his jaw.  
  
When one of Yuri’s hands slips between their bodies and places it on top of Otabek’s half-hard dick as a replacement for his thigh, Otabek is glad they’re in the back of the dance floor, not seen by many. Otabek bites the inside of his cheek and tries to pry Yuri’s hand away before his body gets a chance to respond to the blond’s touches with even more eagerness (Otabek is painfully aware of two things: he is ridiculously turned on, and that they’re in a club full of people). Yuri, however, continues to press himself against Otabek’s chest and gets on his tiptoes, a teasing spark in his eyes.  
  
“Do you want me to do something about this?” Otabek tries to think but his mind is filled with nothing but Yuri, words whispered over the music, a hand tracing the outline of his hardening dick through his pants, how the skin of Yuri’s back is hot and slightly sticky from sweat under his palm.  
  
“Yes,” Otabek breaths out and Yuri smiles, takes his hand and turns around, hurrying away from the crowd. Otabek simply follows, trying to get his thoughts in order while Yuri leads him up a flight of stairs and turns right.  
  
Otabek doesn’t know Yuri, and Yuri doesn’t know him; Yuri wants him, and he wants Yuri. It should be simple, but for some reason Otabek isn’t sure; is he making a huge mistake or possibly the best decision of his entire life. Otabek thinks he probably isn’t drunk enough for something like this, but when Yuri locks the tiny and absolutely filthy bathroom’s door after them and traps the taller boy between a wall and his own body, Otabek is only happy he isn’t dulled by alcohol.  
  
Yuri doesn’t waste any time - he drops to his knees on the dirty floor and works Otabek’s jeans open in a blink of an eye. Otabek rests his head against the cold wall and closes his eyes, inhaling sharply when Yuri finally gets his already aching erection out and gives it a lazy stroke. He hears Yuri letting out a happy hum that goes along with another stroke, his thumb teasing the very tip.  
  
“Fuck,” Otabek hisses out and looks down, finding bright eyes shining in the dimly lit bathroom. Yuri licks his lips and then, without breaking their eye contact, takes Otabek’s cock slowly in his mouth. It’s hot and wet, Otabek’s dick sliding easily on Yuri’s tongue. Otabek flattens his palms against the wall even though it doesn’t provide any kind of extra support. Yuri wraps his fingers around the base and pulls slightly back, hollowing his cheeks around Otabek.  
  
Yuri closes his eyes, long and dark eyelashes spread over his cheeks (Otabek is certain they aren’t Yuri’s natural lashes, or that he is at least wearing some mascara), and pumps his hand around the base of Otabek’s cock in the same rhythm with his sucks. Otabek clenches his hands and flattens them on the wall again, trying to concentrate on the cold tiles under his palms. The bathroom has many stalls, and Otabek’s last wish in this moment is to get caught because he’s making a lot of noise.  
  
Yuri follows excruciatingly slowly the sensitive vein on the underside of Otabek’s dick, pressing his tongue against it. He takes the tip into his mouth and gives it a suck, lapping the slit while his fingertips ghost over Otabek’s thighs and hips. Otabek swallows down his curses and breaths heavily, the teasing warmth in the bottom of his stomach getting hotter every passing second.  
  
Yuri’s name escapes from Otabek’s lips and the blond looks up at him, his pupils dark and huge. The little that was left of Otabek’s self-control disappears, and he undoes Yuri’s long ponytail in a blink of an eye, sliding his fingers into the blond hair. Yuri gives a content, happy hum around his cock, sending electrifying vibrations through Otabek’s whole body, and keeps going down on him with a faster pace.  
  
Otabek’s hold of Yuri’s hair tightens after every bob of his head, and Otabek fights hard against the urge to thrust into the wet mouth. The bathroom around them is surprisingly quiet and Otabek lets himself sigh a little louder when Yuri twirls his tongue around the throbbing dick.  
  
“I’m... close...,” Otabek warns when his pleasure is hot enough to burn in every part of his body. Yuri glances up again, their eyes meeting, and relaxes his jaw to get even more of Otabek in his mouth. Otabek can only watch, almost unable to blink, gasping when Yuri’s nails dig into the skin on the back of his thighs. Otabek feels his dick bumping against the back of Yuri’s throat and he can’t help the small jerk of his hips, hissing and apologizing quickly, gently tugging the blond hair to avoid choking Yuri by accident. To his surprise Yuri only moans and manages to take the very last inches of Otabek in his mouth, small tears gathering in the corners of his closed eyes.  
  
Otabek holds fistfuls of Yuri’s hair when he comes, the orgasm powerful enough to make his back arch. He’s still gasping for air when Yuri tugs him back into his jeans and closes the zipper, taking the hair tie Otabek had put around his wrist. Yuri pulls his hair into a messy ponytail, far from the high and straightened one he had just moments ago, and presses himself against Otabek.  
  
“You’re welcome,” he whispers, his voice hoarse, the same hot mouth that made Otabek’s head spin already marking his neck again.  
  
“A-and you?” Otabek manages to stutter out - in the end he is a gentleman, no matter how long it takes him to come back to his full senses.  
  
“How about,” Yuri says, taking Otabek’s hand and guiding it between their bodies, settling it on top of his obvious hard-on covered by his pants, “we go somewhere you can take care of this in peace?”  
  
Otabek only nods, his mouth suddenly dry, and they make their way out of the bathroom. Yuri waits on the edge of the dance floor as Otabek fetches his bag and jacket from where he left them on the stage. He exchanges quick nods with the current DJ and goes back to the blond who’s in the middle of writing something on his phone - Otabek assumes he messages his friends about leaving them behind.  
  
“Shall we go then?” Yuri asks over the music when Otabek has gotten his jacket on, and he nods.  
  
“Let’s get a taxi,” Otabek says, the thought of traveling in public transport at the state both of them are in simply frightening. Yuri smiles, and when they start walking towards the club’s exit, slips a hand in the back pocket of Otabek’s jeans.  
  
They make their way outside, the early spring night air surprisingly cold. Luckily it doesn’t take them long to hail down a taxi - Emerald is located on the main street after all. Otabek gives his home address to the driver and gets on the back seat next to Yuri, the driver hitting the road.  
  
“Where do you live?” Yuri asks, drumming his fingers against Otabek’s inner thigh.  
  
“Not far,” Otabek says, taking a glance out of the window. There’s isn’t much traffic, and the driver isn’t exactly respecting the speed limit. “10 minutes, I’d say.”  
  
Yuri hums, takes his hand away from Otabek’s thigh and puts his lips on his neck instead. This time, however, Yuri isn’t satisfied with simple kisses: he sucks the skin, uses his teeth and blows hot air over the mark he makes. Otabek puts a hand around Yuri’s waist, slipping a teasing finger past the waistband of his pants.  
  
Yuri is breathing heavily when he leaves Otabek’s neck alone and tries to admire his work on there, but it’s too dark in the car. Otabek chuckles at the disappointed face he makes, and their eyes meet.  
  
“Can I kiss you?” The question is asked before Otabek can stop himself, and he sees a flash of confusion in Yuri’s eyes. For a moment Otabek panics - he isn’t exactly a master when it comes to one-night stands, and he isn’t sure has he crossed the line - but then something in Yuri’s features softens, the shine of his eyes getting brighter.  
  
“Yeah, sure you can.” Otabek places his other hand on the back of Yuri’s neck and pulls him into a kiss. It starts out as a slow, careful one, both of them getting used to the other’s lips. Otabek closes his eyes and follows Yuri’s bottom lip with his tongue, slipping it further when Yuri parts his lips for him. Their tongues meet, Yuri’s pressing demandingly against Otabek’s, his hand resting high on Otabek’s thigh.  
  
Otabek explores Yuri’s mouth with his tongue, licking the underside of Yuri’s and teasing his bottom lip before pulling it gently between his teeth. His actions make Yuri sigh into his mouth, the breath of air being the first reaction Otabek has managed to draw out of him. The small sound is enough to make the smoldering fire deep inside Otabek light up in flames again. He kisses Yuri again, deeply and almost hungrily, and Yuri’s answer to the kiss is just as eager.  
  
The kiss breaks when the car comes to a sudden halt. Otabek’s quick glance out of the window tells him they’ve reached their destination - the car is parked in front of a familiar apartment building. Otabek clears his throat and is about to pay for the whole drive when Yuri shoves a bill in his hand, covering half of the total amount they own to the driver. Otabek blinks but takes the money without saying anything, paying the rest himself.  
  
They step out of the car and thank the driver, Otabek wrapping an arm around Yuri’s waist and guiding him towards the building as the car speeds away. They get into the elevator and Otabek presses the button for the right floor, pinning Yuri against a wall when the elevator starts moving. Yuri answers happily to the kiss Otabek places on his lips, his hands slipping in the back pockets of Otabek’s jeans once again to pull him closer.  
  
The elevator makes a short, loud sound when they reach the right floor, and Otabek breaks the kiss. The lighting in the elevator is better than in the club and the taxi, and the intensive color of Yuri’s eyes make Otabek breathless for a moment. His lips are red from their kisses and his gaze is sharp, dark pupils burning with lust and _something_ \- something Otabek can’t quite place but would call vulnerable.  
  
“This way,” Otabek breathes out, taking the blond’s hand. They walk in the silent corridor, Yuri’s cold hand in Otabek’s warm one, Otabek’s heart is beating faster and louder than it was just a second ago. He mentally kicks himself for getting so worked up over such a simple touch - for heaven’s sake, Yuri had just _blown_ him less than an hour ago.  
  
Otabek takes his keys from the pocket of his jacket, unlocking the door to his apartment. “It’s a bit of a mess, sorry.”  
  
“Honestly, I couldn’t give two shits,” Yuri says with a shrug and Otabek laughs, letting the blond in the apartment. Otabek shuts the door behind himself, quickly getting rid of his bag and shoes, and grabs Yuri’s shoulder, pushing him against the closest wall.  
  
Yuri’s heavy breathing hitches when Otabek puts his mouth on his neck, his teeth scraping skin. He sucks and bites his way down on the junction of Yuri’s neck and shoulder, feeling the blond gripping the back of his bomber jacket. Otabek runs his tongue along Yuri’s collarbone, kissing the dip it creates before traveling all the way back up, marking the other side of his neck.  
  
Otabek takes Yuri’s right earlobe between his teeth and tugs gently, Yuri’s loud gasp of surprise sending shivers down his back. Otabek runs his tongue along the shell of Yuri’s ear, circling the small hoop on his cartilage, and slowly slips the leather jacket off his narrow shoulders, dropping it on the floor.  
  
“Turn around for me?” Otabek whispers into Yuri’s ear, his words making the blond whine helplessly. He does as he’s told, pressing his chest on the wall, his palms flat against it next to his head. He glances over his shoulder and there’s a deep blush on his face, his eyes following closely as Otabek takes his jacket off as well.  
  
Otabek initiates a kiss, and it turns messy when he rocks his hips against Yuri’s ass, the boy’s whimpers getting louder. Otabek puts his hands on Yuri’s waist and leaves an open-mouthed kiss on the back of his neck. He kisses his way down following Yuri’s spine exposed by the shirt, his teeth scraping the sticking out vertebra. Otabek feels Yuri’s body shivering under his touch, his gasps and sighs filling the air, Otabek’s pants getting tighter.  
  
Otabek is on his knees behind Yuri when his lips reach the waistband of the leather pants. Otabek hooks his fingers over it and starts slowly sliding Yuri’s pants down, his lips marking every inch of skin he exposes. Otabek takes his time with getting Yuri’s pants and underwear over his ass and down his thighs, the blond kicking them completely off. Yuri tries to get Otabek to touch him more and more by bending his lower body after every brush of lips over his skin.  
  
Otabek puts his hands on Yuri’s cheeks and spreads them a little, glancing up at the blond. His chest isn’t against the wall anymore; he has bent his waist slightly, his back creating a beautiful curve. His arms are above his head, hands clenched into fists, his long blond ponytail falling over his shoulder.  
  
Otabek places one of his hands on the small of Yuri’s back to steady both of them, and presses his tongue flat on Yuri’s hole.  
  
“Jesus _fuck_ ,” Yuri gasps loudly, his body shaking as Otabek keeps going, dragging his tongue over the blond’s rim again and again. Otabek wraps an arm around Yuri’s waist to keep him from losing his balance altogether, and pushes his tongue in. Yuri lets out a string of curses, most of them turning into an unintelligible mess. The reaction is strong enough to get Otabek’s cock twitch in his pants, that he needs to close his eyes for a moment when he gathers the remains of his inner strength.  
  
Otabek gets on his feet and traps Yuri between the wall and his own body, the press of his erection against the blond’s ass making both of them moan. Otabek has an aching need to touch Yuri’s already leaking dick but he holds himself back, biting his lower lip as he taps Yuri’s with his middle finger. Otabek watches in awe as Yuri takes his finger into his mouth and coats it with spit, long strands of blond hair falling over his flushed face.  
  
This isn’t the first time Otabek thought that Yuri is beautiful, but it is the first time he consciously catches the thought passing through his mind.  
  
Otabek pulls his finger out, Yuri reluctant to let him do so. He pants in anticipation, his green eyes locked on Otabek as he slips his hand between their bodies and pushes the finger dripping with saliva inside Yuri. Otabek watches Yuri’s eyes fluttering close and his mouth falling slightly open when Otabek works his finger in, being careful not to use too much force.  
  
Yuri whines, his fists clenching and unclenching, desperately answering to the hungry kiss Otabek presses on his lips despite the slightly uncomfortable angle. Otabek moves his finger in and out of Yuri in a lazy pace, circling his hole before pushing back in and curling his finger, making Yuri sigh into his mouth. Otabek’s mind feels foggy with pure anticipation, and the blond sucking his tongue while taking his finger in isn’t exactly making the situation easier.  
  
Otabek takes his finger out of Yuri and places his hands on the blond’s waist, breaking the kiss. They’re both panting heavily, their mouths only inches apart.  
  
“Bedroom?” Otabek asks and Yuri huffs out a laugh, the breath of air hot on Otabek’s skin.  
  
“Lead the way.”  
  
Otabek walks through the dark apartment to his bedroom, holding Yuri by his wrist. The blond’s presence causes chills to run down on Otabek’s spine; it makes his head spin and electricity prickle in his veins. Yuri’s hands are cold but their touch is soft when he helps Otabek out of his shirt, his magnetic green eyes running up and down Otabek’s upper body. Yuri seems to be happy to throw the shirt on the floor, his lips in a smile when he presses them against Otabek’s.  
  
“I’ll be right back,” Otabek says as they break the kiss for air, and Yuri nods, slightly out of breath. Otabek hurries to the drawer on the other side of the room and turns on the small light. He rummages through the drawer looking for a bottle of lube and a condom. He takes a moment to calm down his nerves and clear his head that’s currently full of Yuri - under all his excitement and anticipation there’s also nervousness. It’s been a while since Otabek has had someone in his bed, and he tries to convince himself that having a one-night stand at his age is normal.  
  
Having a one-night stand with someone he has been flirting with for months is _definitely_ normal.  
  
Otabek turns around and for a second he’s breathless: Yuri is sitting on his bed, his long hair now free from its messy ponytail. He pulls the shockingly pink top over his head and drops it on the floor, now completely naked, and raises his piercing eyes to meet Otabek’s stare. There’s a surprisingly soft smile on his lips when he reaches his hand out for Otabek, helping him onto the bed.  
  
Yuri lies down, his hair spreading around his head like a golden halo (Otabek isn’t far from calling him an angel but he manages to keep the thought to himself). Otabek settles himself between Yuri’s legs and lets his gaze follow the blond’s body: there’s a very small tattoo on the inside of his left ankle but Otabek can’t make out the design in the dim lighting. Yuri’s protruding hip bones look fragile, the skin covering them smooth under Otabek’s fingertips. Yuri’s chest rises and his back arches beautifully with a sharp gasp when Otabek wraps a hand around his heavily leaking dick, stroking it once.  
  
The flames are burning in the bottom of Otabek’s stomach, growing at an alarming rate, and he knows neither of them are going to last long.  
  
“Please, fuck,” Yuri hisses, almost _begs_ , his eyes clouded from the building up pleasure he craves to release.  
  
Otabek pours lube on his hand, warming it up between his fingers, and helps Yuri rest his leg on his shoulder for better access. He pushes two fingers inside, Yuri taking them with a loud moan. It takes a moment before the last knuckles slip in and for a second Otabek regrets not taking the time to open him up properly - the quick fingering against the wall earlier had clearly not been enough.  
  
“Sorry,” Otabek breathes out, hypnotized at the sight of Yuri’s bright eyes on him, wild blond strands all over his face.  
  
“Fuck, no, don’t apologize. It feels amazing,” Yuri assures him, inhaling sharply when Otabek curls and spreads the fingers inside him. Otabek is more careful when adding a third one, making sure the slide of his fingers is easy before slowly pushing in with more.  
  
“Yes, oh lord. Please hurry up, I want you already,” Yuri says, his whine changing into a moan when Otabek’s fingertips brush against the most sensitive bundle of nerves inside him.  
  
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Otabek confesses, biting down his own moans - Yuri is pleading in a hoarse voice, and it’s almost too much to him.  
  
“You won’t, I promise, please, just, I’ve wanted you for _so long_. I’ll go crazy if I have to keep waiting.”  
  
“You have?” Otabek asks and pulls his fingers out, a teasing glint making its way into Yuri’s eyes.  
  
“Dude, please,” he laughs, lowering the leg resting on Otabek’s shoulder down on the bed, putting his other foot on top of Otabek’s jeans covered erection. The pressure makes Otabek gasp, and he tries to focus on Yuri’s words instead of the thrilling shivers of electricity running down his spine. “You think I’m paying Emerald’s fucking huge entrance fee every other week for fun?”  
  
“You come there…”  
  
“To flirt with you, yes. Fuck, I’ve been dreaming of this for months,” Yuri says, his eyes dropping to follow the small movements of his foot instead of studying Otabek’s face. He looks almost shy, totally different from the bold and confident boy dancing under Emerald’s crazy lights. Yuri blinks and raises his gaze, and for a second Otabek can see nervousness and insecurity in those strikingly green irises.  
  
Something in Otabek’s chest shifts that makes him want to hold Yuri and not let go. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out, and he closes it again, painfully aware how ridiculous he looks. Yuri has the guts to chuckle at him, a small smile still on his lips as he sits up and kisses Otabek. He licks deeper into Otabek’s mouth, quick fingers working his jeans open, tugging them down. Otabek takes the hint and breaks the kiss to get on his feet, stripping out of the last pieces of clothing he has on. He is slow on purpose, enjoying how Yuri bites his lip as the blush on his face deepens, his almost invading stare only encouraging Otabek.  
  
He climbs back on the bed and places hot, open-mouthed kisses on Yuri’s jaw and neck, his hands wandering down his spine and through his long blond hair. Yuri moans as Otabek strokes him slowly, Otabek’s dark hair getting tangled under Yuri’s fingers when he grabs fistfuls of it.  
  
“We shall make those dreams of yours come true then, right?” Otabek whispers into Yuri’s ear, the loud whine the blond lets out everything Otabek expected to hear.  
  
“Fuck, yes. _Yes_. How do you want to take me?” Yuri asks, his voice low and teeth sharp when he bites the thin skin right under Otabek’s ear. “I’m all yours, baby.”  
  
The confidence Yuri has found again fills Otabek’s mind with thrilling buzzing, and his ability to think straight is long gone. “On your hands and knees,” he rasps out, not missing the small moan Yuri breathes out. He’s almost certain he will last a little bit longer if he doesn’t have Yuri’s eyes to look into, but the small noises the blond keeps making are driving him insane. Otabek pulls Yuri into a swift, hungry kiss and swallows with difficulty, unable to look away when Yuri settles on the bed as he was told to.  
  
Otabek places his hand on Yuri’s lower back and traces his spine, loving the shivers he feels under his palm. Yuri presses his head down on a pillow and with needy whines begs Otabek to _‘get on with it already’_ , making him quickly reach for the condom and roll it on.  
  
“Okay?” Otabek makes sure when lining himself behind Yuri.  
  
“Yes, just hurry, please,” Yuri says, his voice already strained. Otabek takes a strong hold of Yuri’s hips and teases the blond’s entrance with the tip of his cock before pushing in, his fingers printing bruises on Yuri’s skin when he tries to keep the first thrust smooth and slow.  
  
“Oh God, Yuri,” Otabek gasps when he’s finally fully in, Yuri hot and tight around him. Yuri whimpers - not sure if in pain or pleasure, hearing his name panted out suddenly like that catching him off-guard. To help Yuri relax, Otabek creates soothing circles with his thumb on the pale skin, giving Yuri time to adjust. He watches Yuri’s fingers unclench around the sheets he’s grasping, the muscles of his back gradually relaxing.  
  
Otabek pulls out just a little before thrusting back in, rolling his hips to get deeper, his every movement drawing some kind of content sound out of Yuri.  
  
“Otabek, holy fuck, _Otabek-_ right there, fuck,” Yuri cries out, the filthy moans of his name encouraging Otabek to fasten the rhythm of his thrusts. Yuri begs him to go faster, _harder_ , his endless string of pleas and curses changing into louder moans and choked whimpers when Otabek fulfils his wishes. Otabek wraps an arm around Yuri’s waist and bends down, his chest now flush against the blond’s back, the new angle making both of them gasp in bliss.  
  
“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Yuri basically sobs in rhythm with Otabek’s thrusts. Otabek kisses the back of Yuri’s neck, the way the blond’s muscles clench around him making him moan against the sweaty skin. He slides a hand into Yuri’s long hair, worried for a second he’s being too rough with his actions as he grips a handful of blond curls for extra support, but the noises Yuri makes only encourages him to tug slightly harder than necessary.  
  
Otabek pulls almost completely out of Yuri before pushing back in a faster pace. He rolls his hips and keeps placing kisses on the back of Yuri’s neck and shoulders to keep his own moans down, his thrusts sending almost violent shivers through the blond’s body. Otabek wants to lose himself in the white, hot fire spreading from the bottom of his stomach, Yuri’s high-pitched, unintelligible whimpers and whines only feeding the flames.  
  
“Yuri, holy shit, I-”  
  
“I want to see your face when you come. Beka, please, let me watch you.” The sudden usage of a nickname mixed with Yuri’s lewd request, forced out between gasps, is almost enough to send Otabek over the edge. He breathes out a sound, and even though he’s not sure what he’s trying to say, Yuri takes it as a ‘yes’ - he quickly turns around on the bed. Yuri straddles Otabek’s thighs, pulling him into a heated kiss, as their chests press against each other.  
  
Otabek is sure Yuri can feel and hear his frantically beating heart, and the drumming gets even crazier when their eyes meet. The green and blue of Yuri’s eyes look so vivid, Otabek knows he could lose himself into them - getting drunk from the swirls of intense colors surrounding a dark pupil. Blond messy curls frame Yuri’s face, a deep-pink blush on his cheeks and prints of Otabek’s teeth breaking the smoothness of his skin.  
  
There’s a shadow of uncertainty in the way Yuri looks at the man facing him, and Otabek gives a firm, reassuring nod in an attempt to chase any doubt away. Yuri is biting his bottom lip when he puts his hands on Otabek’s shoulders for support and shifts on his lap, Otabek’s cock sliding easily inside him as he lowers himself on it.  
  
Yuri inhales sharply - almost hissing - when he takes in the last few inches, and Otabek is already breathing heavily. The tightness around him feels completely different than before, Yuri’s weight on top of him is almost dizzying when he starts moving. His movements are small but sharp as he rides Otabek, the older man stroking him in rhythm with them.  
  
Yuri moans Otabek’s name over and over again between curses, his eyes half-lidded yet sharp at catching every expression the other man makes. Otabek swears under his breath and pulls Yuri into a messy kiss to avoid the gaze making him go absolutely crazy.  
  
“Fuck, _Yuri_ ,” Otabek moans, louder than before, Yuri continuously rocking his hips to get the cock inside him to hit against the bundle of sensitive nerves that makes his body tremble in pleasure. Waves of pleasure sweep over Otabek as well, scorching in his veins as it pushes him over the edge, creating sparks behind his eyelids. Yuri repeats Otabek’s name like a mantra right next to his ear, Otabek almost subconsciously stroking Yuri to orgasm while riding out his own.  
  
Otabek knows he isn’t far from blacking out, his head spinning and body shivering when aftershocks run through him. Yuri rests his head on Otabek’s shoulder, his breathing heavy and erratic. Otabek places the hand, not covered in come, on the small of Yuri’s back as wordless support, unable to open his mouth to ask is the blond alright. Yuri wraps his arms around Otabek’s shoulders as an answer, hugging him lazily with what’s left of his energy.  
  
They stay like that for what feels like a lifetime, as they slowly come back to their senses. Otabek furrows his brows in displeasure when Yuri moves out of his lap and manages to get on his feet, silently spitting out foul words with a hoarse voice. Otabek’s limbs feel heavy and numb, and he barely feels the careful touch of Yuri’s hand on his shoulder.  
  
“You okay?” Otabek forces his eyes open and nods, seeing relief in Yuri’s expression. “Where’s the bathroom?”  
  
“It’s… or wait, I’ll show you,” Otabek says and stands up with a groan, swearing he can hear Yuri laugh at him.  
  
They go to the bathroom for a quick clean up, and Yuri is shocked yet amused when he sees the messy state his hair is in. Otabek doesn’t want to admit it, but when they get out of the bathroom and Yuri heads back to the bedroom with a yawn, he feels delighted. The happy, bubbly feeling only grows inside him when they get into bed and Yuri curls against his chest, letting out a content sigh. Otabek proceeds to pull the covers over them and runs a hand through the blond’s curls.  
  
Otabek closes his eyes, exhausted yet satisfied, and his last thought before falling asleep is a wish to wake up next to Yuri in the morning.

* * *

Otabek isn’t sure what it is that finally wakes him up: the uncomfortably hot room heated up by the sun shining in through open curtains, the dull ache in his every muscle, or the strange ringtone playing somewhere in the depths of his apartment. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter as an attempt to tune the sound out, but blinks them quickly open when he hears a very sleepy (and very annoyed) groan from next to him.  
  
“Who the fuck calls me at this hour, I swear I will…”  
  
What Yuri plans on doing to the person trying to get a hold of him remains as a mystery to Otabek when the blond, who is mumbling nonsense under his breath, gets out of the bed, disappearing from the bedroom to find his continuously ringing phone.  
  
Otabek doesn’t manage to hear properly what Yuri talks about with the person on the other end of his call (and he doesn’t even try to hear - eavesdropping is definitely against his morals), only catching short sentences like _‘You’re not my mom, though’_ , _‘I’m totally fine’_ and _‘I’ll call you later, okay? You’re not gonna fucking believe what happened last night’_. Otabek covers his face with his hands upon hearing the last sentence, Yuri’s excited and triumphant voice making him grin.  
  
Yuri ends his call quickly with a goodbye, and Otabek hears him picking up the clothes that got thrown out of the way before they made it to the bedroom the previous night. Yuri is wearing his underwear when he comes back to the room, running a hand through his long hair while the pink crop top and black pants are draped over his other arm. He frowns, his expression a little clueless, the bright sunlight shining in the room making him squint.  
  
Otabek sits up and meets Yuri’s eyes, a lazy smile making its way on the blond’s lips. Otabek answers to the smile, trying to blink the sleep away. He watches as Yuri drops his clothes on the floor and stretches his arms with a yawn, and Otabek notices bruises not only on his neck and collarbones but on his hips as well.  
  
Otabek has to admit he might have lost his usually collected composure more than once the night before.  
  
“Good morning,” Yuri says, untangling his hair of knots with his fingers.  
  
“Morning,” Otabek says, fighting hard against a blush when he sees - and almost feels - Yuri’s eyes scanning his naked upper body. There’s a smirk on Yuri’s face when his vivid eyes lift up to get a glance of Otabek’s own, darker ones. Otabek is surprised that it’s Yuri who turns his gaze away after a while, a delicate blush on his face. He rubs his eyes and gives a disgusted look to the stains of eyeliner and mascara on the back of his hands, faint black smudges around his eyes.  
  
“Would you mind if I took a shower?” Otabek shakes his head after a moment, feeling stupid for thinking why Yuri feels the need to ask - _of course_ he would be polite and ask, they don’t even know each other!  
  
“No, no, go ahead. The bathroom’s on the right, as you probably remember, and there’s clean towels in the cupboard,” Otabek rambles, as he runs a hand through his hair and grimaces. “I definitely need one, too,” he adds as an afterthought, Yuri’s almost melodious laugh filling the air.  
  
“Well,” Yuri says, leaning against the doorframe with one corner of his mouth quirking up in a smug smile, “what if we save some water and shower together?”  
  
Otabek sees a teasing glint in Yuri’s eyes when he bites his bottom lip and tilts his head in question. He crosses his arms and Otabek blinks, not sure how he’s supposed to react. If Otabek is being honest, after the night they spent together he wants nothing more than get into the shower with Yuri, kiss him breathless and listen how their silent moans bounce off the tile walls.  
  
But then, on the other hand, Otabek wants to act like a decent human being and decline Yuri’s offer. Otabek remembers everything that happened the night before and he knows he isn’t usually impulsive like that: he likes to compare the pros and cons of his actions before doing anything. Last night that didn’t even cross his mind, and he’s sure it’s all Yuri’s fault. Otabek doesn’t want to admit it, but just overnight the blond had become a weakness of his - and, for the sake of his own sanity, he should stay strict and herd Yuri out of his apartment before the situation escalates (again).  
  
And then there’s a small voice in the back of his mind, whispering into his ear how nice it would be to have a quick shower with Yuri and come back to bed, share a kiss or two before sleeping the day away. Otabek knows the small voice is dangerous because it wants him to hold Yuri’s cold hand; it wants him to drown in Yuri’s eyes while getting to know him. But despite the voice giving him bad, _bad_ ideas, Otabek wants it to get louder.  
  
Otabek blinks again and answers to Yuri’s smirk with a soft smile. “If that makes you stay longer, then yeah, sure.”  
  
Yuri watches as Otabek gets up from the bed, his expression slightly confused. Otabek stops in front of him and raises his eyebrows, forcing himself to stay calm even though he’s basically freaking out inside his head. He brushes a strand of blond hair out of Yuri’s face, the tempo of his heart getting faster when Yuri’s expression relaxes from puzzled to contented.  
  
“I can stay as long as you want.”

**Author's Note:**

> It took us over a month to finish this, you all don't even know how happy I am that I can finally post this (:3｣∠)_
> 
> [tumblr](http://sleepyams.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/vilmahenriika)


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